irritants and frustrations `` OPEN

[zelda ellette garrett]

It was the perfect Fall day, in Zelda’s eyes. The trees were turning bright pink, orange and red and they were absolutely gorgeous. There was a slight breeze that ruffled Zelda’s hair and the pages of a book that she was reading. She was sad to see that the gorgeously colored leaves were beginning to fall, but she knew that was just how nature was. She would see the colors again the same time next year. And besides, once the trees had lost all of their lovely colors, the Christmas season would be approaching. Zelda might not seem like the type of person that would love Christmas, but she certainly was.

Just as Zelda was settling into her environment of the courtyard, there was a twitch of annoyance when she realized that there was a group of first years, obviously Hufflepuff that she could tell by the bright yellow on their robes, that were happily yelling and running around the courtyard. She is a person that is very easily irritated, so of course, this was something that greatly irritated her. However, she knew that they were only first years, so she did her best to restrain herself from getting too upset and snapping at them.

“They’re just immature, they’re just immature,” she repeated to herself. Zelda knew that the courtyard wasn’t exactly the ideal place to do her research, but it was just such a lovely day and she loved this kind of weather so very much. She was studying a book about Lycanthropy; she’d been obsessed with the subject for about four years or so. There had never been a cure to the condition, only a small potion that helped during the full moon. Well, to her that definitely wasn’t enough. To her knowledge, no one else was even attempting at finding a cure, besides her father. The fools.
With an irritated huff, she turned her eyes away from the first years and turned her gaze back to the book. The only thing that she had come up with so far was that they would have to change the inner physical makeup of werewolves, but how were they to do that?

[DAMIAN TOBIAS FROUD]

How had he been roped into this hopeless task? Damian continued to ask himself this question as he watched the first year Hufflepuffs bounce around with crazy amounts of energy, raking large piles of leaves together to make mosaics of red, orange, yellow, and brown, before hurling their bodies into their work with fits of giggles. He, himself, only watched the stupid children to make sure that they didn't end up bringing their wands out and screw up various levitation spells or whatever else they planned on doing.Not that he would be able to actually do anything if the idiots got too crazy.

As the fourth year continued to watch the younger students have their fun, he thought back to the seventh year prefect who had handed the first years over to him for supervision. The prefect, who was very lucky to be cute enough to distract the wanna-be Slytherin, had simply said that they were overloaded with school work and not to mention the bloody study-fest that all seventh years were attending to make sure that they reached high enough grades to pass their N.E.W.T.s. Damian had to roll his eyes at his own stupidity that had tripped him up. If he had kept his guard up, like he would have in his first couple of years, he would never be in the position of babysitter to the rowdiest bunch of Hufflepuffs since the late 1700s.

After a few moments of just standing and watching his charges, Damian took the liberty of looking around the courtyard to see how others had reacted to the noise. There were a group of Ravenclaws that looked to be in the middle of doing something like solving a riddle or something else that would require all of their attention and wit; and there was also a lone Gryffindor with her head bent over a medium sized tome, when she wasn't sending out the glare of death to the idiots. A smirk graced the boy's lips, perhaps this girl would come in handy.

He slowly made his way over, casually making disapproving faces at the younger students, before he stood next to his target. He looked down and naturally read a few sentences of her text before opening his mouth.

"Lycanthropy." He commented. "Don't tell me you went and got yourself bit by a Lycan."

words: 400 and something
clothing: school robes

[zelda ellette garrett]

Zelda has always studied the works of Damocles Belby, the wizard that had created the Wolfsbane potion, very carefully. She knew that he was still alive because his nephew attended Hogwarts and was only two years ahead of her. She would have liked to get to know the boy, so that he might introduce her to his uncle, but he was, unfortunately, quite a snob. While Zelda could be a bit of a snob as well, though she would never admit it, but this boy was a much worse snob than her. He knew that his uncle was very famous, and he flaunted that fact, especially in front of people that he knew were hit with the Lycanthropy curse.

She raised her eyes barely over the top of the spine of the book to see that what looked like a Hufflepuff was heading her way. The boy looked a bit younger than her and was most likely not as brilliant as her either, so she really didn't want to waste her time with the thing. Hoping that the boy would continue on his way, she returned her eyes to the book, which wasn't exactly answering any of her question, but she was still going to read it through, just in case it had a small tidbit of information that might spark an idea in her mind.

Noticing that the boy had bent over and read some of her book, Zelda frowned. How rude. It irked her that he thought he would be allowed to get that near to her. Zelda was really the wrong person to anger and annoy. She was gifted at magic and she had a very sharp tongue, no matter who she was talking to.

"Oh, don't be such a fool," said Zelda, not looking up from her book. "Besides," she said, finally raising her head,"And even if I had, I wouldn't tell the likes of you."

[DAMIAN TOBIAS FROUD]

Foolish, she called him. Stupid girl. The boy smirked and leaned back over her shoulder to continue reading. From her body language, it looked like it really pressed her buttons, what with the way her shoulder muscles tensed themselves in such a way that she could close her book and attack him with it. It appeared that she at least knew how to defend herself and had the sense not go for an easy strike. So as Damian watched for the slightest sign that she would attack, he shrugged.

"How could I be a fool when I am only asking a question. Doesn't your fellow students deserve to know if they are attending classes with a possible threat? Mind you, I know that we aren't in the same year so I don't need to worry about a full moon during Astronomy disturbing my star charts." He said before he straightened his back and sat on the empty space of bench next to her. "Although if you were bitten, I would suggest telling the Headmaster as soon as possible. You never know when an old man may die."

Damian could tell the girl wasn't bitten by a Lycan, but it was always fun messing with the house he had grown up believing that he should hate. Besides, if she was a danger, Gryffindor or not, she wouldn't be reading up on the condition out in the open where anyone could, for example, read over her shoulder. So the only other thing that came to the boy's mind as to why she would be studying up on the subject was either a personal interest, being a friend or family member, which was unlikely for the same reason as if she had been bitten, or she, in her Gryffindor goodness, wanted to cure anyone with the affliction. A quick thought of Potter and the things he always seemed to be getting into, the latest of which being Dumbledore's Army, the girl could very well be trying to save the cursed half of humanity.

"Of course, if that wasn't the case, I would talk to Professor Snape about modifications that could be made to a certain potion that may or may not change the length effectiveness. He is, after all, a much better potions master than Professor Slughorn. No offense to the man, but he is much to kind to his students."

words 412
school uniform

[/i][/center]

[Araziel Léon Vasilica]

Winter was soon approaching and as such, Araziel was determined to enjoy as much of the autumn hours as he could whilst it lasted. The many hues of oranges and reds were oh-so-pleasing to the eye, and as if inspired based simply on color alone, he had opted to sneak into the kitchens one morning and spend a good hour or two baking some pumpkin tarts. Of course the task had involved him trying to bake while at the same time fighting off the enthusiastic offers of the house elves that populated the kitchens; Araziel loved the little buggers to death but really, unless he was doing high volume, he really had no need for a sous chef or ... twenty.

He'd departed from the kitchens some time afterwards carrying a basket of the pumpkin tarts all lined up neatly and stacked in maybe three or four sheets. It was that time again ... time to spread the joy of confections to the surrounding population, and today that population was Hogwarts of course!

Thus Araziel had wandered up and down the staircases and corridors, offering sweets to everyone he passed regardless of how cheery or grumpy his victims appeared. And after he had circled most of the main routes of the castle, he glanced to his basket, saw he had some leftover, but also saw that he had plenty of space in his basket. Hmmm.

Another trip to the kitchens it was, and a little bit later, a teapot and teacups had joined the leftover pumpkin tarts. Perfect! He was equipped for a picnic.

Now making his way out to the grounds, Araziel continued wandering and handing out more tarts, all the while seeking a good place to sit for a picnic. Eventually he located a nice spot in the courtyard; there were some people around, and to Araziel that was always pleasant; he liked to people watch.

Nearby he spotted someone from his house; he recognized her from around the common room, but as she was not in his year, he supposed he had an excuse for not being able to recall her name. Still, not one to be shy, Araziel hummed to himself as he made his way over, and as if he had been invited into the conversation between her and a younger looking kid, Araziel plopped the basket down and took a seat in their vicinity, close enough to converse but not too close for comfort.

As he set out his picnic things and spread out his blanket, he yawned and gestured, having caught the last snippets of conversation.

"So we've got a professor in the making, have we? Already formulating his own lesson plans and teaching styles?" Araziel flashed the both an amused grin before holding out a plate of the pumpkin tarts.

"Care for any?"

[zelda ellette garrett]

"Get away from me, Hufflepuff," said Zelda, thoroughly annoyed. It wasn't that she had any problem with the Hufflepuff house overall, she just had a problem with this Hufflepuff and wasn't going to waste time in trying to find out his name. The poor fool had been tricked into thinking that he was good enough or smart enough to engage Zelda in conversation. She could tolerate have a conversation with people that weren't as smart as her, but this boy was just rude. He should have expected a rude reply to such a rude greeting.

Not even granting the boy a reply, Zelda moved further down the bench, so she could get away from him. Her head snapped up when she heard a familiar voice. She saw that it was a fellow Gryffindor, so she calmed down, slightly. She recognized him from the Gryffindor Common Room. He and Vincent Dorée could often be found sitting around the fireplace sipping coffee. She had never really gotten to know him, especially since he was two school years older than her.

"Oh, my! Those smell divine!," she said, putting her hand to her heart and looking down at the platter of pumpkin tarts. Zelda carefully reached down to grab one, while at the same time closing her book and putting it beside her on the bench, face down. "Thank you!" she said, grinning down at the Gryffindor on the ground.

Zelda carefully bit into the tart and put her hand under her mouth, so that so crumbs would fall onto her skirt. "Mm!" she said, voicing her opinion of the deliciousness of the pastry. "Did you make this yourself?" she asked, starting to take another tiny bite from the tart. She was perfectly aware that she had turned her back to the Hufflepuff, not wanting to acknowledge him anymore.

[DAMIAN TOBIAS FROUD]

Damian didn't even flinch as the girl snapped at him. He had grown up around a bunch of Death eater children and their parents, so it really was common place for him, even if it was a tad blunt. At least she hadn't left the bench entirely, which, in the boy's mind, was a good thing. She wasn't at the end of her rope yet.

A boy that had made himself a picnic spot suddenly spoke and Damian looked to him in acknowledgment. Unfortunately for the Hufflepuff, the elder student was not only a Gryffindor but also had a uniquely ice blue eye coloring that stood out drastically against the dark brown hair that framed his face. In fact, it was so unique that the only other eyes that came to mind for comparison would be the Care of Magical Creature's Professor. After he had looked his fill, the words that he had spoken registered in the young teen's mind.

Teaching? There was one occupation that Damian had never even thought of for his future self. Unconsciously, his hand went to his wand pocket, his fingers trailing slowly on the elder wood as he thought about what he could teach if he were to go in that direction. There was a sharp dent under the pad of his one finger that caused him to snap out of the small daydream. He would never be able to teach, or get a high ranking job, unless he wanted to expand in Herbology, Astronomy, Potions, History, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures or Divination. He took his hand from his wand as if it had burned him before placing it back to his side.

Maybe he should just give it a go with Herbology and Potions so that he could sneak into the Froud manor and trick his parents into letting him back into the family fortune. Then he'd at least be able to do what ever it was that he would like, as long as he lived modestly and never married... not that that would be likely. And without a vast interest in the other subjects, he wouldn't succeed. He could succeed Professor Trelawney in her position, but as he rolled it over in his mind just to entertain the idea, he realized that he really didn't want to be near that woman more than he was forced to be, gift or not.

"No." He said as he also accepted an offered tart, sniffing at it curiously before taking a bite. The flavor flooded his mouth, and Damian could only think that if it had been liquid and had less spices in it, it would have been spit out. Otherwise, it was quite tasty. "No, I won't be teaching. I've just found that I learn more under Professor Snape than Professor Slughorn. I have to agree with her though, these tarts are good."

words: 491

[Araziel Léon Vasilica]

Oops. Maybe Araziel had crashed at a bad time. Didn't look like the two were getting along as well as he'd thought they were. He pondered to himself as he watched the Gryffindor girl move away, and his gaze briefly darted to her book then to the boy as he absently wondered what the matter was. Oh well. These were the kinds of things Araziel was usually adept at handling; awkwardness bothered him little (even if he happened to be the center of it). Besides, sweets often made for a good distraction!

"I can't say they're divine - until I figure out how to obtain something like ambrosia, I suspect my recipes may never truly be of a divine nature - but I'd like to think they're about as close to heavenly as is mortally possible!" Araziel grinned cheerily, though inwardly he couldn't help laughing at the somewhat 'misplaced' use of 'mortal.' Still, after both of the students had taken some of the confections, he set the plate back onto a nearby ledge and then took out a teacup to pour himself some tea.

On second thought, he gestured. "There's tea too to match; just some genmai cha; nothing fancy. Help yourselves if you want."

Taking a sip or two of tea, however, he immediately brightened at the compliments about his pastries, his manner not unlike a bird puffing up. "Well of course I did ! As if I would offer anything less." Faking a haughty 'hmph,' Araziel stuck his nose into the air momentarily before returning to his picnicking snack.

"Gotta' say, those house elves in the kitchens are ... overzealous, by way of an understatement." Araziel chuckled, masking a smile (and dabbing away a few crumbs) with a napkin before scooping up his teacup again, cupping it in his hands to warm up. "At least we're all buddies now. They all know my name, but I'm finding it difficult to remember all of theirs. House elf names are ... colorful."

He wrinkled his nose and glanced to the Hufflepuff again, tilting his head to the side. "Eh, well, if learning's your thing and if you can withstand Monsieur le Greaseball, then sure, I'll give you that much. But Slughorn makes such entertaining company! I'd love to cook for one of his little special snowflake parties some time, though."

Pausing, he tilted his head again, and then gestured. "Oh! Well, anyway, if ever you're in need of coffee or a midnight snack - " he was obviously addressing them both collectively, " - then by all means, every Wednesday and Sunday night 'round midnight, just stop on by the kitchens. We'll call it a date." He winked, stifled another chuckle, and then returned to his food, now busying himself with rifling through a small journal he'd just pulled out of his coat pocket.

[DAMIAN TOBIAS FROUD]

Tea. Damian's face turned white and the half eaten tart fell from his stiff fingers, landing on his school pants. Luckily as the crumbs went flying, the boy snapped out of his trance and picked up the confection before brushing the crumbs to the ground below. He forced himself to relax, hoping that the elder Gryffindor's rant about sweets and the kitchen elves would cover his slip up.

He was horrible with any type of socialization that involved the drink. Heck, it was that drink that had become the beginning of his secret life, well not as secret any more. He had read very few tea leaves since he had found out he had the cursed gift, maybe a handful at the most. And with Voldemort back raging his war, those futures were often bleak, except one of the most recent ones. Damian could also remember how that one girl's tea leaves were the end of his gift being a secret. Obbsessive Trelawney. The Hufflepuff swore to himself, why couldn't Hogwarts have teachers that stayed out of their students business? At least Snape was good at that.

"Slughorn may be good company, but the only ones he invites to his get togethers are students with high marks and impress him." Damian said. "At least with Snape, everyone knew that the only ones who were seen as 'exalted' in his eyes were Slytherins. Well I guess that still holds true, just a different subject. You could just say that I prefer Snape over Slughorn just because their personalities."

When the boy continued on to invite him... well, the girl too.. to the kitchens for a snack, Damian only heard 'date.' It really wasn't his fault. It was those unearthly blue eyes that seemed to keep the Hufflepuff's attention.

"I'd like that." He said before he realized what had just left his mouth.

words: 324

[zelda ellette garrett]

Zelda was thoroughly impressed by the snack that the older Gryffindor had prepared. "Oh, tea, that sounds lovely!" she said, happily taking some tea and sipping a bit. She loved tea parties, they were so cute and enjoyable. They brought her back to when she was a little girl, when she would have pretend tea parties with her dolls and stuffed animals.

Zelda laughed slightly at the older boy's faked haughtiness. "Well, you should be very proud, these are absolutely wonderful," she said, smiling at him and taking another bite. She was starting to regret not getting to know this boy sooner than now. He certainly seemed like an interesting person. "I'm afraid I've never been able to cook or bake anything successfully," she said, with a small laugh. "How long have you been studying it?" she asked with an interested look on her face.

"Oh, I certainly know what you mean," she said with a wave of her hand in response to the boy's comment about the house elves. "I go down there every so often for...well...because I can," she said, shrugging and taking a sip of tea,"And it's as if they think we haven't eaten in months, the way they continuously offer you food!"

Zelda was just about to respond to the older Gryffindor's invitation when the Hufflepuff replied first. Also, it didn't seem to be a completely friendly reply either, as if the boy was looking more into it than he should. That was pretty much all she could take of the Hufflepuff's strange personality.

Grabbing her book, Zelda stood up and looked at Araziel. "That sounds really nice, I'll probably come visit you one of those nights. Thanks for the invitation. Now, though, I'm afraid I have to go meet someone, but it was wonderful chatting with you!" she said, with a wave. Before she left, though, she turned to the Hufflepuff and said,"You're very odd."

As she headed back to the castle, she saw Vincent Dorée walking her way. "Oh, hello, Vincent," she said, smiling at him. He was only a year older than her, so she had gotten to know him quite well, especially since they were in the same house. "I know your friend is over there, but beware of the Hufflepuff. He's a strange one. See you later!" she said, finishing with a smile and a wave as she continued to walk up to the castle.

[Araziel Léon Vasilica]

"If I didn't know better, I'd've thought you were a ... wannabe-Slytherin, what with you glorifying le Greaseball comme ça," Araziel thought aloud, his tone more musing than mocking as he glanced thoughtfully off towards the sky.

By no means had the vampire missed the pale face (though admittedly he was used to them - uh ... well, family and all that) the boy had put on, but Araziel rarely called others' out for the sole sake of embarrassing them, and so he passed no comment, still sipping at his tea.

Araziel was glad that he seemed to be cracking the other girl out of her shell. He smiled broadly when she inquired about how long he had been studying the culinary, and with a (halfway) mocking smirk, he quirked a brow and gestured vaguely to nowhere in particular. "Oh ... I don't know; I lose track of time pretty easily. Feels like forever. I'd say for longer than you've been alive." The last part was obviously a jest (at least he made it come off that way), and he waved a hand to dismiss the joke with a quiet chuckle.

The random proclamation from the boy seemed to have had an effect on both Araziel and the other Gryffindor; at first the vampire could only blink stupidly in confusion, wondering just what the Hufflepuff had been talking about, but when it became clear, Araziel could respond with little more than a palm to his own face.

"Oh for the love of God; you've not been talking to Edmond have you?" he inquired with half-mocking suspicion, though the question slipped as easily as the Hufflepuff's words had. "As if it's not enough that the kids here are all underage; now to add insult to injury, it's boys too ... "

The girl was up and leaving before much else could be said, much to Araziel's disappointment. "No worries! Just stop by the kitchens some time, or if ya' see us in the common room I'll fix you some mocha." And he waved her off.

Now turning back to the boy, Araziel raised a brow. "Well, kid, I don't know what to say to save this convo from descending into awkwardness. Preferences aside, you're a bit too young to be flirting with me, don't you think?" He raised a brow and took a sip of his tea before looking up again, having spotted a familiar figure.

[VINCENT JACOB DORÉE]

Vincent stared down at his essay, frowning. It was a Defense Against the Dark Arts essay that he had worked really hard on...he hadn't even procrastinated on it, which was really saying something for him. He was sure that if it had been for any teacher besides Professor Snape, he would have gotten a pretty good grade, but no, it just had to be for the former Potions Master. Not only did he fail the paper, though, he got the second to last worst grade possible: D for dreadful. He tried to look at his paper from a neutral point of view, but he really couldn't find anything that was terribly wrong. Vincent was pretty sure that he had all the facts right...

Vincent's head snapped up when he heard his name called by a familiar voice. "Oh, hey, Zelda," he said, with a slight grin on his face. The two of them were pretty good buddies, especially considering Zelda's obsession: werewolves. "Um...ok, Zelda. Thanks for the warning," he said, with a nod, surprised by her comment. She really wasn't one to be eccentric or spastic, so this behavior really took Vincent by surprise.

As he walked towards Araziel and the apparently strange Hufflepuff, Vincent folded up his essay and tucked it into his pocket. Saying that he was in a bad mood was being kind. He could usually control his temper when he was around his friends, but around those that he didn't know, he usually snapped.

"Hey, man," he said, collapsing on the ground next to Araziel. Vincent reached over and grabbed one of the pumpkin pastries and took a bite out of it. He was definitely used to Araziel's tasty treats, but that didn't mean that he didn't still enjoy them. "That's really good," he said, after swallowing. Vincent paused in taking another bite when he saw the Hufflepuff. "Who the hell is that?" he asked.

[DAMIAN TOBIAS FROUD]

Of course she would take the tea, Damian thought as he watched her fill her offered tea cup. Forget making her useful, her personality was too strong willed. Maybe that was why there were no Gryffindor traitors to the light, their strong personalities.

"It would appear that way." Damian answered critically. He really didn't need it getting out to the general student body population that he was the son of a death eater. It wasn't something he was exactly proud of, besides, he had been disowned the moment his parents had gotten word of his house.

At the comment that he was odd, the boy could only shrug. After all, it wasn't like he had a stereotypical personality of a Hufflepuff. The sorting hat really had screwed up his outlooks in that respect. Other than that, he was sort of relieved when she packed up her book and left.

Damian blushed red as he realized that the blue eyed boy had figured out what was going on inside his mind. Luckily the boy had covered his face with his hand so by the time the hand was removed, his face was back under control.

"Who the bloody hell is Edmond? And who said I was flirting? You were the one who brought it up. Besides, you're not the one for me anyways." He replied once the girl had left, not trusting himself to speak until then. True the person he had loved, or as he later realized, had focused his hormones on, was dead, and this boy was defiantly not going to be either a replacement or a new crush.

As another Gryffindor walked over to take the girl's place, Damian sighed. What had he gotten himself into? Undoubtedly this new boy was going to be just like the other two, a strong personality. Really, there was only so much that the Hufflepuff could take. Luckily this one didn't have features that attracted him right off the bat, there wouldn't be any staring or twisting of words.

"Just a kid eating a pumpkin tart." He replied before taking another small nibble out of the confection.

words: 362